


The Maintenance Core

by OutOfBeta



Category: Portal (Video Game)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-16 21:08:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16502738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OutOfBeta/pseuds/OutOfBeta
Summary: Virgil's life in Aperture after Mel leaves. This was based off a short thing I wrote but it got out of hand, enjoy!





	1. A Mission

Virgil watched Mel rise up through the elevator shaft. He tried to look happy. They’d won! They’d done it! She was free, and he was . . . still here. Alone. Again. She gave him a sad little smile as she ascended out of view.

“Uh. Bye, Mel!” He called, his vocal processor glitching with unwanted emotion. He resisted the urge to call her back. He had other things to deal with, after all. GLaDOS, of course. Now that he was back on his rail, it was top priority to go check on her, especially after _the crash. _  
__

__He turned away from the elevator, shaking his core and trying to put her out of his mind. As he began the long, winding trip up to New Aperture, Her domain, he found himself humming . . . something. It was a song Mel had sung, under her breath sometimes when she thought he couldn’t hear. He could always hear.  
_ _

__“Time and time again, you will be my only friend, although the tides of time have gone and torn . . . us . . . apart.” He stopped. It had sounded better when she’d sung it, anyway.__

Virgil could tell he was getting close now, the carpets and plywood walls entirely replaced with stark grey panels. Even those were falling apart now, though. He did his best to fix up the worst of it on his way. He _was_ a maintenance core. He had obligations. 

__

____

It had been hell, for him, when _the crash _had gone down. He’d still been stuck down in old Aperture, and by that point GLaDOS was too far gone with the personality cores to hear his distress signals. But he’d heard the boom, the horrific sound of equipment being torn apart, and Her screams. His core had been flooded with error messages, every system on his radar shrieking for help, and there was nothing he could do about it. He shuddered at the memory.  
__

_____ _

____

____

___Virgil let out a yelp of shock as he entered the central core chamber. She was in pieces on the ground, overgrown and swamped in a foot of murky water. He rushed to her core, mechanical arms laying out track in front of him.  
_ _ _

“Please don’t be dead please don’t be dead, oh hell.” Even as he panicked, his protocols kicked in. He ran a diagnostic. Water damage, of course. Dangerously high corruption, shit. Various destroyed physical components. _That _at least he could deal with. He got to work, gently removing pieces of Her plating to get at the delicate gears and pistons underneath. The robotic arms and nanobots he’d been able to get working brought him replacement parts and tools as fast as they could, and he fell into a comforting rhythm. Find the problem, don’t think about Mel, get the materials, don’t panic, fix the problem, _get yourself together, Virgil,_ move on to the next thing.  
__

______ _ _

____

___At last, he had the worst of the internal damage fixed. He was just about to move on to her shattered neck joint when she spoke.  
_ _ _

_"Virgil.” _Her voice was low, faint and glitchy. A human would barely have been able to hear it, but Virgil wasn’t human. Not anymore.  
__

____

“Oh, you’re online! Great! Uh, what can I do for you?”  


_“Not much, given how badly the lunatic destroyed this place,” _she murmured, dryly. One of the two functioning fans in her core hitched and died again as she spoke, and Virgil hurriedly continued repairs.  
__

____

“Uh—sorry about that. I was . . . incapacitated at the time. But I came as soon as I could!”  


_"I see the AEGIS unit malfunctioned. That explains the flooding. You didn’t have anything to do with that, I assume?” _  
__

____

Virgil visibly winced, and guiltily hoped Her optic wasn’t functional enough to tell.  


“Well, Mel—uh, another test subject escaped. I tried to stop her, but—she took out AEGIS before she left. And by that point I was back on my rail, so I thought I should bring you online first, of course.”  


_“Hm. Really quite the infestation of rebellious humans around here, isn’t there. I’ll have to do something about that. I wonder where the rat’s got to these days . . . ” _She trailed off. Virgil continued working in silence for a moment, trying to salvage the motors in GLaDOS’s neck joint and faceplate to afford her some range of movement.  
__

____

____

“Um. GLaDOS?”  


_“I’m here, yes. My processing power was decimated, it’s difficult to think straight.”_ A spray of sparks erupted from her optic. _“. . .Oh. It seems I’ve also been cut off from my primary generator. The whole sector’s been disconnected, actually. That’s . . . not ideal.”_  


_____ _

_____ _

Virgil tilted his optic, carefully rewiring the back of her core. It was awkward being so close to her as they talked, especially with her in this state. “I can send over some nanobots to repair it, if you’d like. Or go myself! Although if I’m honest, I think I should stay here. You’re, uh, not really in the best shape.”

_“Thanks for that. But when I say disconnected, I mean that part of the facility has literally been ripped apart by malfunctioning machinery. I doubt a metal ball such as yourself could safely navigate it.” _  
__

____

____

“. . . oh. Right."  


GLaDOS emitted a simulated sigh. _“I’ve been avoiding this, but I don’t see any alternative. Virgil.” _  
__

____

____

___He glanced up, to meet her weakly glowing optic.  
_ _ _

_“What do you know about core construction?” _  
__

* * *

* * *

Virgil laughed nervously. It wasn’t something the cores talked about a lot, although granted most of them had lost their memories of the process. Virgil had gotten to keep his memories, but even so, he’d never really looked into it. Biology wasn’t his area.  


“I know the basics. Uh, why do you ask?” He twitched nervously, dreading the idea of going back to his old body. So _fragile._  


GLaDOS lidded her optic slightly, exasperated. _“I’m sure even you can figure it out, maintenance core. I’m going to need someone with legs to fix that generator, and unless you want to call back either of the murderers, you’re the best choice.” _  
__

Virgil puffed up slightly at the flattery. He could do this. For science!  


GLaDOS continued. _“The choice physically closest to me, anyway.”_  


Of course.  


“That’s fair. So, uh, you need me to transfer back?”  


_“Yes. Do you know how the machine works?”_  


Virgil pulled back a little, affronted. “I built that machine!” He tensed immediately after the outburst, optic shrinking, forgetting for a moment that GLaDOS was barely functioning. Barely a threat. "I mean. Yes. Yes, I can initiate the procedure."  


GLaDOS chose to ignore his transgression, her voice glitching as she answered. _“Good. Move as fast as you can. I don't have a lot of time before I shut down again.”_  


Virgil nodded. 

_"And--" Her optic flared for half a second. "If you betray me, metal ball, don't think I won't find out. I have eyes everywhere. Good luck!"_

"I--Okay. Of course. Uh, thanks?" Somewhere on the line between bemused and terrified, Virgil extracted his maintenance arms from where they'd been working, prepared to move out. “Should I just . . . go now? You’re still pretty damaged. I don’t know if it’s safe—“  


_“Go.”_ Her voice was more badly distorted this time, and she sounded tense, not that Virgil could blame her. He wondered exactly how much that corruption was affecting her. _“I’m basically running on battery power right now. If I’m going to fix this place, I need that generator.”_  


Virgil nodded again, retreating. “I’m on it. You’ll, uh, be back in power before you know it.”  


Another spray of sparks.  


"You won't regret this!"  


_**“Go.”** _

He went.


	2. A Memory

Virgil pushed his way through the vegetation that clogged the Organic Core Component Storage Unit (helpfully abbreviated to OCCSU)’s door mechanism. There were no maintenance arms down here to help him, the sector having been built just before panels were introduced, but he managed to shake off the more persistent vines himself.

“Wow.” Virgil surveyed the rows of storage tanks in front him, each containing one of the hapless bodies abandoned during the core construction program. In theory, these systems were supposed to keep their occupants alive, in prime testing condition, indefinitely. Virgil could already pick out several flashing red failure lights among them, though. He’d just have to hope he wasn’t one of them.

He followed his management rail up and down the rows, counting down to number 52, where his old body would hopefully still be functioning. Occasionally he’d catch sight of a face he recognized, back from Aperture’s . . . human years. Phoebe, repurposed into Curiosity. Hadn’t seen her in ages, but she’d been active when GLaDOS took over, so. Virgil chose not to think about it. He averted his optic from the failed tanks. He didn’t need a reminder of how . . . easily compromised human bodies were right now. Wasn’t that the whole point of being a core, escaping that nonsense? That was why he'd done it. Well, that and science, anyway.

And then, far too quickly, there he was. Staring down at himself. His body was alive, thankfully. He noticed in annoyance that his hair had grown out of control while in storage, dark curls bunched up against the glass, obscuring amber eyes and pointless freckles. Ugh. He’d have to do something about that. 

“Oh, this is _not_ going to be fun.”

_“It’s not. But unless you have a far less fun, disassembly-related death wish, I suggest you hurry up. Neither of us has time to waste stalling right now.”_

Virgil jumped in his casing.

“GLaDOS! How did you—“

_“Apparently the lunatic spared a couple of the intercoms during her rampage. So now I get to hear your whining, instead of just imagining it. Fun.”_

“Hey! You are _barely_ alive right now. You don’t get to give me death threats.” Virgil’s anxiety had made him irritable, a trait he desperately wished he could delete as he heard Her acidic reply.

_“Really. I’d rethink that if I were you. Or, if you can’t bear admitting you were wrong, think about this: which of the two of us do you think the deconstruction nanobots are going to listen to when I tell them to deconstruct your core?”_

Virgil shrunk back into his casing. If he’d been capable of gulping, he would have swallowed his tongue.

“Ahh! I’m sorry, GL—ma’am. It won’t happen again.” Internally, he cursed himself wildly. Stupid, stupid maintenance core. The last thing he needed to be doing was pissing off _GLaDOS,_ for science’s sake. Without wasting any more time, Virgil initiated the transfer.

 

* * *

* * *

 

Virgil tried and failed to force the last of his doubts from his mind as he dropped down into the provided interface. Tiny mechanical arms latched onto his casing, shedding rust as they did so, and plugged wires into the ports near his optic.

What if this didn’t work? It wasn’t like GLaDOS could, or, probably, _would_ get him out if things went wrong. He’d just be left here to rust, trapped halfway between bodies, _slowly going insane—_

“Stop spiraling, dipshit,” Virgil snapped at himself aloud. It didn’t work. He needed Mel here, to keep him on track, keep him positive. She was probably happy out there, though, probably she’d found other humans by now. Probably she was safe.

Virgil’s thoughts were spinning uncontrollably, fading as fast as they came. He could feel, somehow, his consciousness leaving his core, memories and knowledge draining away and reappearing . . . somewhere else. 

And then it was over. Virgil gave an involuntary shudder, hating the feeling of flesh, of pumping blood. His breath sounded deafening against the glass. He eased his optic—his _eyes_  open, thankful for the muscle memory that made it automatic, almost—but not quite—mechanical.

 **“Transfer complete. Organic component 52, please state your storage release password.”** The tank’s artificial voice murmured in Virgil’s ear.

 _Shit._ He did not remember his password, must have lost it during his decades as a core. Virgil racked his recently acquired brain. What would stupid, young, human him have picked?

“Uh. Password?” he tried, hopefully, his voice scratchy from disuse.

**“Incorrect.”**

“Goddamnit. Ok, um,” _Think, maintenance core. God, it’s something stupid, isn’t it._ _Pretend you're back at Aperture--_  “Bio sucks.” He blurted it, his voice cracking with laughter briefly, remembering his department’s stupid rivalry with the Bio Lab.

**“Incorrect.”**

“Bio sucks . . . dicks?” Immature, sure, but it was worth a shot.

**“Incorrect. Would you like to hear your prerecorded hint?”**

Oh, thank science. “Yes! Yes, definitely.”

There was a soft click, and then a glitchy audio clip started up:

“Is . . . is this thing on? Yes? Yes. Ok, future me. Here we go. Your password hint is,” his voice paused, and Virgil had a sudden, acute memory of blushing, trying not to let anyone—specifically _someone_ —hear. “It’s someone cute,” Past Virgil finished, quietly. Awkwardly.

Oh. Virgil rolled his eyes at his younger self. Of-freaking-course, that was what it was. He opened his mouth, ready to speak, but the clip continued. A new voice, one that sent a familiar shock of adrenaline through him.

“Hey, Engie. We’re gonna sneak out for beers, you wanna come?” Blood rushed uncomfortably to Virgil’s face, almost certainly mirroring that of the Virgil in the recording. That voice . . .

“Uh. Um. Thanks, Michael! But I should—I still—I have to work on something. I uh, Mr. Johnson’ll disassemble me if I don’t finish it before the transfer. Sorry.”

“Aw, don’t worry about it. Wouldn’t want to risk that face without a good reason. Come on though, Virgil, you’ve known me for ages, you can call me Mike." The man's deep voice dropped another octave. "Hell, _you_ could call me anything you want.”

Virgil could _hear_ the grin in his tone, the eyebrows and the fingers hooked in pockets. Fucking Mike. Fucking Rainbow. 

“Mike.” He muttered quickly, the audio shutting off.

 **“Correct.”** The glass of the storage tank lifted, and Virgil scrambled out, torn between embarrassment and nostalgia, praying to science that GLaDOS hadn’t heard that.

 _“Well, that was fun to watch. You do know you could have just asked me for your password, right? But look on the bright side. I have enough blackmail material now for the next couple hundred years. Watch your step, **Engie**_."

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> probably going to be updating this weekly but I've never stuck to a schedule once in my life so don't trust me


	3. A Companion

Virgil brushed himself off, wrinkling his nose at the mix of dust, rust, and rotting organic matter that filled the room. He’d been spared nasal capabilities as a core, and he sorely wished he’d appreciated _that_ mercy while it lasted. He managed to avoid voicing his complaints, though. He didn’t need GLaDOS on his back again.

Virgil shoved his hair out of the way and gave himself a once-over. He was still in his old, outdated mechanic’s uniform, dark red button-down and brown pants doing nothing to balance out the garish, mandatory mustard-yellow tie and toolbelt. It was loosely what his design had been based off as a core, though honestly he thought he’d worn it better as a metal ball.

In a stroke of inspiration, Virgil tugged the tie off his neck, feeling a thrill of defiance at finally being able to break uniform without being threatened with testing, and deftly pulled his hair into a ponytail with his good hand.

His good hand, of course, meaning the metal one.

Virgil had lost his right hand about a year into his Aperture internship. It hadn’t been a big deal to him, he’d never been particularly attached to his body, and anyway he was almost ambidextrous. He’d been volunteering in Turret Construction, working out how to get the laser sights to track their targets, and then--

_“There you are.”_

“Kill it!”

“AAAAAAHHHH!”

_“I don’t blame you.”_

“Oh shit. Oh shit, call someone.”

“Guys, I think my hand might be—“

He’d blacked out after that, his hand shot to smithereens, and nearly bled out during the ensuing argument about whether to break company policy and call an ambulance, or just laser the hand off and call it a loss. _The greatest minds of our generation._ The laser had cauterized the wound pretty effectively, though.

He’d also, regrettably, missed Mike sprinting in from halfway across the facility, vaulting over the turret production line, and demanding why _“they let the one cute engie get hurt, damnit.”_ Allegedly.

The end result being: Virgil’s right arm now ended in a hazard-yellow sheath of metal, not unlike the early portal guns, topped with a clunky metal hand on a detachable base. His belt held its various other cobbled-together attachments, including drill, blowtorch, and a low-powered laser emitter.

Now Virgil opened and closed his flesh hand, making a face as he felt muscle and skin pulling with the action.

“Ech. This . . . I did not miss this.” He began to walk down the rows, realizing as he turned a corner that he wasn’t heading for the exit at all. _When had he gotten so unreliable?_ He didn’t stop. He knew where he was going.

He came to a stop in front of chamber 37, staring wordlessly at the man who lay inside. The stasis had worked more effectively on him, preserving the stupid racing-stripes shaved into the sides of his hair, and his scruffy, should-have-shaved-a-week-ago-lazy-bastard-I-got-you-a-new-razor-for-this stubble. Gently, unable to stop himself, Virgil laid a hand on the glass, tracing it over the winding, colorful tattoos that decorated the motionless arms underneath.

“Miss you, Rainbow. It was, uh. Fun while it lasted.”

He yanked his hand back suddenly, irritated with himself. Just one sentence from Mike’s core down there and he was acting like a human all over again, while GLaDOS _died_  on his watch. He narrowed his eyes and strode towards the door, shoving wayward vines out of his face.

His resolve diminished significantly as he stepped out. He hadn’t payed much attention on his rail, but on two feet it was obvious most of the walkways here were rusting and unstable.

“I’m ready to move. Ma’am.” He figured it was best to stay polite now, after everything. “Do you, uh, know a safe route out of here? Everything’s mostly . . .broken, down here.”

Virgil waited, rocking anxiously back on the balls of his feet for a good few seconds before Her answer crackled through, sounding preoccupied.

_"To your left there should be a fairly stable testing track. It’ll let you out near the generator if you don’t die. Or you could just fix it, seeing as your only actual job is maintenance.”_

“Right.” Virgil glanced to his left, eyeing an at-least-15-foot stretch of walkway that had rusted away, hanging precariously straight down into the depths of Aperture. “Great.”

_“Oh, and don’t go near the relaxation chambers. The nanobotsjust reported a . . . disturbance. I can’t afford to lose my one mediocre employee."_

Virgil nodded. “Got it, boss.” He moved cautiously to the edge of the broken walkway, fumbling for one of the attachments at his belt, and switching it out with his hand with practiced efficiency. He aimed it at a stable-looking, overhanging steel beam and bit the inside of his cheek in concentration.

“I’ve, uh, never actually used this one before. So. Here goes.” He fired, the grappling hook shooting out, trailing its cable before latching onto the beam above. Virgil was tugged along with it, the thin cable swinging him over miles of treacherous salt mine. He kept his eyes firmly fixed on the other edge of the gap, releasing the hook midair and landing safely, if gracelessly, on hands and feet on the metal grating. He huffed a laugh, heart beating distractingly fast. “I can’t _believe_ that worked. Oh, Rick would have loved that.” He sat back on his heels, shaky with adrenaline as he reattached his hand.

“Hey, nice swing, gorgeous. Any chance you swing my way?”

“Ach!” Virgil jumped to his feet. “Mi—Rainbow!”

“That’s me, freckles. Hell, with that face, you can call me whatever you like.”

 _Of course. The smooth fuck only had one line._  He glanced around for the core, finally picking out his flashy optic in a gap between displaced panels. The core swung his optic to the side, tilting it and blinking in an irritatingly effective imitation of a wink. Virgil gave a small wave, smiling despite himself.

“Hey, Rainbow. Uh, how’ve you been?”

Rainbow narrowed his optic slightly. “I know that voice! You the core I saw hanging around earlier, with the lady?”

“Oh! Yep, that was me. Me and Mel.” Virgil tried to force down the pang he felt at her name.

“You two aren’t . . . ?” Rainbow left the question unfinished. Virgil barked a laugh, surprising himself.

“No! No, not at all. She’s . . . she was a friend.” Rainbow gave a simulated sigh of relief, and rolled closer on his rail.

“Well, I have to say the new look is just . . . _fantastic.”_

Virgil rubbed awkwardly at the back of his neck, feeling a blush creeping up his cheeks. God, blood was annoying. “Thanks! You too. I mean, look good."  _God dammit._  "I, uh, should get going. I have to fix up GLaDOS’s generator, actually.”

“Oh, an engie! Should’ve guessed. Working for the boss-lady, huh? Impressive.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what happened, but . . .” Virgil gestured at the ramshackle corridor. “It’s a job for a maintenance core.”

Rainbow nodded. “I wouldn’t want to keep you, gorgeous. Hate to see you get in any trouble. But, if you wouldn’t mind,” he raised an optic shield, looking surprisingly sincere despite his flirting. “I could keep you company.”

Virgil couldn’t stop the grin from flashing across his face. “Yes!” Any cynicism he might have harbored had withered away in the face of _hell yea he’s kinda hot._ “Definitely. I could use some company that isn’t, you know.” He pointed to the ceiling. _“Her.“_

Rainbow laughed at that--he'd always had the best laugh. “Understandable.”

 _“If you two idiots don’t shut up and move in the next thirty seconds, I think I'm going to find a way to throw up. There will be acid, and I do only need_  one  _mediocre employee_. _And don’t forget about earlier, **Engie.** I have that on tape, and it’s hilarious.”_

Virgil blurted out a stream of apologies, and even Rainbow managed to look somewhat abashed, and with even more difficulty managed to avoid questions about what exactly She was talking about, from the half-murderous, half-terrified look on Virgil’s face.

“You lead the way then, gorgeous.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! Stuff happened.
> 
> The only good thing about this chapter is the "swing my way" joke.


	4. An Entrance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a lot happens here! Virgil fucks up one time but it's OK anyway enjoy  
> You can thank the good bastards in my discord server for the tide pod thing

Virgil eyed the test chamber door apprehensively. This was one of the older ones, designated DELTA VICTOR by the scientists, and long since shut down. Point being, there was no guarantee the tests would still be safe, or even solvable.

He glanced at Rainbow, who hung nearby on his rail. They’d stayed together for the trek to the testing track, talking and, well, flirting quite a bit. Virgil wasn’t sure how to handle it, if he was honest. He knew Rainbow was a perfect copy of Mike’s personality, down to the pickup lines, but the core had no memory of their time together, no indication that the memories were even still there. What was the protocol for that?

“You alright there, flowers? I don’t have the hands to get through the door, myself.”

Virgil shook himself. He didn’t have the time to sort through those emotions right now, the _facility_  didn’t have that time.

“Yeah, sorry. Still, uh, still getting used to this body. Ok, let’s go.”

Virgil took a breath, lacing his fingers together and folding them outward, which didn’t work great with half of them made of metal, but whatever, confidence booster. He stepped up and tugged the door open.

_“Hey there, test subject! Happy to have you here. Now, I should warn you, this next round of tests might be a little more challenging than what you’re used to, judging from all the corpses we just had to incinerate, but I’m sure its nothing you can’t handle.”_  Johnson’s voice crackled through the half-dead speakers.

Virgil grimaced. “Of course, we get a monologue track. This is going to be a fun fifteen hours.”

“Aw, don’t worry, freckles. I’ll distract you with my charm and dashing good looks. For science.” Rainbow followed his track through the door, glancing back to see Virgil fighting a losing battle with the laugh bubbling in his throat.

_”That being said,”_ boomed Johnson, the prerecorded message trucking on, _”you might want to grab a pair of welding goggles from that bin over there. Those lasers are as hazardous as they are experimental, or so the lab boys are telling me. But they also said not to market our best-selling detergent pods as consumables, which may I remind you got us the best publicity we’ve had in years, so you can take their advice with a grain of digestible bleach.”_

Rainbow made a thoughtful noise. “Hey, wasn’t this recorded right before the—“

“The Tide lawsuit, yeah.” Virgil cringed at the memory, sobering up a little. “That was a nightmare. They wouldn’t let us go home for _two weeks_ , and we weren’t even in marketing!”

“Well, with looks like yours, you really should have been.” Rainbow murmured, his core maneuvered into a ridiculous seductive expression.

Virgil snorted, despite the infuriating blush he could once again feel on his neck, and walked over to retrieve a pair of goggles. He half-expected the old panels to collapse under his feet. “Eventually that’s going to stop working on me, Mic—“

He froze as he realized his mistake.

_Not this again. He’s not Michael, Dipshit, Mike’s in the storage tank, he’s_ not _Michael._

“—Rainbow.“ He corrected, fast enough that hopefully the core didn’t catch his slip.

“If I could take a breath, I wouldn’t hold it, gorgeous,” chuckled Rainbow.

“Yeah, yeah.” _Get yourself together._ Virgil pulled the dark goggles down over his eyes, hooking the strap under the bushy mess of his ponytail, and stepped out into the test proper.

A quick, professional assessment of the chamber.

“ . . . Oh, I'm fucked.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real short chapter this week lads, I will hopefully be back on a normal schedule soon.


End file.
